


only to rise and fall again

by thedrugdealingshark



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Possession, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3159722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedrugdealingshark/pseuds/thedrugdealingshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems as if Bray has found every single way to get into Dean's head at this point; Bray’s haunting him, and Dean’s not sure if he’s ever gonna stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only to rise and fall again

Dean has lied about things in the past, sure, but _this_. This is nothing to lie about.

This whole thing with Bray, Dean’s not even sure what to properly refer to it as, has completely fucked him up. It’s spiraled way too far out of control, way more than Dean intended for it to.

It's like Seth all over again. Fighting Seth was hell on Dean's mental capacity, it was hell on his emotions. It was hell because he was doing it to himself. Yeah, sure, Seth would occasionally say something in an interview along the lines of he's never cared about Dean, or he's never had any brothers, and it would drive that knife a little deeper in the wound that Seth had created, but, Dean would never let it stop bleeding.

And, now, Dean's losing control of his mind again, but this time, it's Bray's fault. Dean's not doing shit except listening to Bray's words. In fact, Dean was ignoring everything Bray was saying, he was trying so hard not to let Bray get into his head, because that’s exactly where Bray wanted to be. That was in the beginning, now, Bray's said and done too much, and Dean has stopped trying.

"I'm here for you," Roman is saying one night. They're in Dean's hotel room, Dean’s just lost his match with Bray at TLC, and he's not sure if Bray's ever gonna stop haunting him. "you know that, right?"

Dean's got his head in his hands and he's shaking; his whole body is shaking so violently that he can't even hold himself still.

"Right?" Roman urges.

"Yeah," Dean hates how broken he sounds; he hasn't sounded like that since the night Seth betrayed them for the Authority.

He’d hate to think that Bray has that big of an impact on him, but it’s true.

Bray has made a nest inside Dean’s mind and Dean’s not sure if he’ll ever leave.

Dean's still not completely certain as to why Bray ever decided to attack him that night at Hell in a Cell, other than because he saw a part of himself inside of Dean. When Dean had refused to let Bray 'fix' him, it changed Bray's whole demeanor, and now he's trying to break Dean beyond repair, so nobody can fix him other than Bray.

And, goddamn it, it's working. It's really fucking working.

But, why does Bray seek anybody out other than to see how far he can push them out of their sanity, to see how close to the edge he can drive them to?

Bray just likes to fuck with people, and Dean's not the most stable mind to ever be on the WWE roster.

But, fucking with his opponents’ heads is also Dean's go-to method. He likes to isolate their weaknesses and use them against them, make their lives a living nightmare, and Bray's using his own trick against him.

There's no getting in Bray's head, Dean's certain that's not a place he wants to be.

When he destroyed that fucking rocking chair, he saw Bray's armor begin to break, but would it be enough? Would anything be enough to stop Bray before he successfully and completely drove Dean out of his mind?

The chair was just pure luck when it came to dismantling Bray, but other than that, Dean has no fucking clue where to start.

What separates Dean from Bray is that Dean's insecure; Dean's scared. He's scared that he'll be alone in this world or that he'll never have anybody to run to when things get tough, and it's something Dean's been trying to squash down his entire life.

Bray found it almost instantly.

“You have to keep fighting,” Roman says, breaking the silence that Dean wasn’t even aware had settled. “this can’t go on forever.”

“What if it does?”

Roman looks at Dean head on, his jaw clenching, and he’s clearly pissed, either from Dean being this difficult or Bray getting him in this state in the first place.

“It won’t,”

“He’s not just gonna give up, Roman-”

“You’re gonna make him give up, you’re gonna end this,”

How the hell Dean’s gonna do that, he’s not sure.

While he appreciates Roman’s enthusiasm, and it’s a hell of alot better than spending the night wallowing in his own self pity, Roman just doesn’t understand. Dean’s not as strong willed as Roman is, he can’t just turn his emotions off when he’s fighting his opponent, his emotions and his mind is what drives Dean into the competitor he is.

Which, Roman was just as anguished as Dean was when it came to what Seth did, but Roman powered through it, like he does with everything. It nearly fucking killed Dean, and it would have completely, if Bray hadn’t forced his attention onto him instead.

Bray’s destroying him from the inside out, and Roman just doesn’t understand that Dean is unable to effectively fight back at this point.

It’s Bray’s game now, Dean got knocked off the board a long time ago.

\- - - - -

Three in the morning on that same night, Dean finds himself sitting up in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, and a thin layer of sweat forming on his skin.

His breathing comes out in short, ragged pants, his pulse is thumping in his ears, and he can’t seem to calm himself.

Another nightmare, only different. Far different than the usual nightmares Dean’s grown accustomed to over the years.

Not only has Bray managed to get in his subconscious mind, but he’s managed to get into his dreams as well.

Dean closes his eyes, trying to remember the blurry details of the dream, but can’t. He just remembers Bray: Bray being there, chasing him maybe, Dean’s not entirely sure.

He just knows that Bray was there, Hawaiian shirt, dark, long unruly hair, and all.

How can something you don’t even remember get you in such a panic?

Opening his eyes, Dean gazes around the room as if Bray might be somewhere in his hotel room, lurking in the dark corners, waiting to make his attack.

_“I am going to dismantle your mind and feast on the spoils,”_ Bray’s voice echos through Dean’s mind, words from a time that seems so long ago, Dean barely recalls it.

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Dean untangles himself from the bed sheets and wills himself to get up. His limbs are shaky, and he almost falls to the floor, barely able to support himself. Dean manages, though, and somehow stumbles his way into the bathroom.

When he gets to the sink, Dean grips at the sides of it, bracing himself as he stares down into the ceramic bowl. His breathing has barely stabilized itself, his heart beat hasn’t slowed, and his skin feels as if it’s on fire, tingling with the aftershocks of his nightmare.

Dean forces himself to look up, and he finds the excited image of himself staring back at him, wide blue eyes alive with the rush of adrenaline that he feels pumping through his veins.

_“Things that would make others cringe and grimace - excite people like you and me,”_

It’s sick, Dean thinks, that something like this could ever excite him, but it does, and Bray’s not wrong. Bray’s never fucking wrong.

Having to go through fear, danger, and being driven to insanity just to feel something is more sick and twisted than Dean could ever comprehend, but it’s true, it’s all Dean’s ever known.

The normality and mundaneness that Dean had once lived during his time in the Shield had left Dean bored and unsatisfied. He didn’t want to admit to it, because having someone who had - or Dean had thought- loved him was something Dean never would have deserved.

He never thought he would have had that, and what little taste of normality Dean had, he had barely been able to tolerate. But, that was something they could never understand, Dean Ambrose wasn’t nor was ever gonna be normal.

Maybe that was Seth’s intentions all along, to water down what Dean already was, to make him less threatening and uncaring, so he wouldn’t come after him when he showed his true colors.

Dean knew that wasn’t Roman’s intentions, Roman just didn’t want Dean to get hurt.

He’d managed to anyway, but none of it was Roman’s fault.

Despite the current situation, Dean’s eyes are ironically bright and lively, and he’s feeling something akin to the feeling he gets when he’s beating his defenseless opponent within an inch of their life.

Demented but shameless glee.

His lips are parted into a weak but sinister grin, his pupils dilated, and while this is clearly not healthy or right for that matter, Dean isn’t sure he wants this war with Bray to end.

A war that he is no doubtedly losing, but a war that he is enjoying fighting in.

Dean’s hands are shaking as he grips the edges of the sink tighter, his whole body is shaking with the sinful feeling he is experiencing.

He shouldn’t crave to be this close to the fire, the flame shouldn’t fascinate him and draw him in even more, but here he is. Dean’s good at being the things he shouldn’t be.

Three-fifteen in the morning on that same night, Dean finds himself feeling like this sort of adrenaline rush is something he could easily become addicted to.

\- - - - -

Two nights later, Dean’s just won his match with Bray on Smackdown, yet there doesn’t seem to be a light anywhere in this tunnel they’ve enclosed themselves into.

He’s in the arena restroom, desperately needing a vacated area to clear his head in, allow himself to think.

One win over a million doesn’t change anything. Bray’s already won in so many ways that Dean can’t even keep count, but he doesn’t seem disinterested and he doesn’t seem like he’s ready to give up the fight any time soon.

Dean can’t help but be fascinated by Bray.

Even though he’s made his point, he still doesn’t refrain from beating it into everyone’s heads each and every night. He wants everyone to know he’s the victor here.

Dean doesn’t even mind; He can’t bring himself to care anymore.

He’s standing in front of another sink, not ready to meet his reflection just yet as he wills himself to calm down. Dean’s just now coming off the high of his victory, and waits for the dull feeling of reality to return, leaving him lifeless and bored yet again.

If only he could ride the feeling forever, maybe it would be something worth living for.

Dean’s excited by violence, that’s nothing new, he craves to feel the something that it brings, and without it, he feels deprived. Bray seems to supply him with that feeling, the something that makes Dean forget everything and just enjoy the moment.

Dean’s addicted to that feeling, addicted to the feeling that he gets from being around Bray, from fighting Bray, from seeing Bray, from thinking of Bray.

Dean’s addicted to Bray Wyatt.

The realization is almost like a slap in the face.

He recoils from the sink, like he’s been burned, and the image he sees when he glances up at the mirror is like another painful slap.

Bray stands behind him, glaring back at him through the mirror, the shocked look of horror on Dean’s face turning even more so when his eyes connect with Bray’s.

At first, Dean thinks of it to be an illusion, his mind playing tricks on him to torment him even more, but when Dean whirls around, Bray is there, just as real as the look of threat that possesses the other man’s features.

“What?” a fake sense of glee overtakes Bray’s demeanor within a matter of milliseconds. “did you think I would surrender that easily?”

Dean barely has time to blink before Bray is rushing towards him, pinning him against the sink, his hands clutching at Dean’s shirt. Bray laughs as Dean struggles against him, trying to push Bray off of him with every futile attempt he can muster.

“You can't win this war, Dean, you can never win this war,” he hears Bray saying before he’s thrown to the floor.

Bray watches as Dean scuttles back towards the wall, almost cowering away from him, and he laughs once more. The same deranged chuckle that has haunted Dean’s dream for the past two nights.

“You can run away all you like,” Bray moves towards him until he’s towering over Dean’s breathless form. “but I will always catch you.”

Dean subconsciously wonders how he could ever be addicted to something this destructive, not only to his mind but his entire being. But, just because it’s wrong in so many fucked up way, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Addicted is the only word Dean can think of to describe it as, and it’s probably a mild description of what it actually is.

Bray bends down, so his face is inches away from Dean’s, eyes boring into his, grinning at him with the same sinister smile Dean had seen in his own reflection the other night.

_“Every time that I look at you, I can’t help but see my own deranged reflection glaring back at me.”_

_Maybe the bastard and I are a lot more alike than I thought._

Dean doesn’t let his gaze falter away from Bray’s, and if he thought he was insane before, he must be really out of his fucking mind by now.

He almost doesn’t feel it when Bray grabs the back of his head.

“You’re mine to chase,” Bray says, pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead, and before Dean realizes it, he’s gone, disappearing just as quickly as he entered, leaving Dean to wonder if the whole thing was imagined.

But, it wasn’t, and Dean manages to releases the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding in, coming out in a sound that’s eerily similar to that of breathless joy.

Dean takes comfort in the fact that Bray seems to be addicted to him too, just in a completely different way.

\- - - - -

It takes Dean a week to realize that it’s not remorse or hatred he’s feeling towards Bray, it’s a sinful fondness that almost makes Dean’s skin crawl.

His heart races at the thought of Bray touching him, his breathing grows labored at the thought of Bray kissing him, and his blood runs south at the thought of what it would be like to have sex with him.

Which, the thoughts of sex didn’t come to be willingly, his brain had used the images against him in a dream that Dean has no trouble at all remembering.

He remembered the feeling of cold, clammy hands running over his warm, exposed skin. He remembered the contented sigh that escaped past his lips once he felt Bray’s mouth on his neck.

The dream had left him feeling cold and bare, and not to mention aroused, but Dean was doing his best to ignore that part.

It’s early in the morning and Dean has to be at the airport in a couple of hours to board his flight. Usually, he would have went back to sleep, and woke back up at the last minute. This time, all sleep had been jarred from his body, leaving him wide awake and alert.

He gets out of bed and into the shower, hoping to rid the dream and all thoughts of Bray from his mind.

But, once he steps out from under the hot, relaxing spray, reality seeps its way back in just like the cold morning air.

\- - - - -

The night of Bray and Dean’s next match together had come rather quickly, and Dean’s beyond jumpy from anticipation.

It was the last episode of Raw before Christmas, so predictably, their match was Christmas-themed. A Miracle on 34th Street Fight, Dean hadn’t ever heard of the movie before, but whatever.

When interviewed about the match, Dean had said he wanted Bray Wyatt for Christmas.

To his dismay, he knew that meant in more ways than one; he also wanted this stupid crush to go away, but that was neither here nor there, and Dean had to get ready for his match.

Their war was slowly coming to an end, and Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of distress in his pit of his stomach every time he reminded himself of that.

After this, Bray’s attention would be turned elsewhere, and Dean’s chance would be over, so to speak.

But, there was no way he could act on his feelings, that was completely out of the question, he hadn’t even figured out what they were yet.

Dean just felt like if he didn’t have sex with Bray Wyatt pretty soon, he was practically going to die. Bray was coursing within his veins and it didn’t look like Dean would be able shake him off any time soon.

\- - - - -

Another match under his belt, and Dean feels like he left feeling more in love with Bray than he’d ever been before.

Dean was _in love_ with him.

This wasn’t sick and twisted anymore, it was strictly fucked up.

Yet another enemy Dean desires to sleep with.

There was no mistaking the pure hatred shining within Bray’s eyes as he glared at Dean from the other side of the ring, and it’s almost ironic how Dean feels the complete opposite.

He wanders around backstage, in search for Roman, because he knows he’s back here somewhere, and as time passed and the area is becoming less populated, Dean is on the verge of giving up. Call it a night and just get some fucking rest.

“Looking for someone?” Dean hears when he’s leaned up against the wall near his locker room, his bag hanging from his shoulder and his fingers typing out a text message to Roman saying he’ll catch him later.

Dean looks up, slightly startled, and he knows exactly who it is because it’s the same voice that haunts his fucking dreams every night.

Bray steps out of the shadows, approaching Dean with this knowing smirk that makes him feel timid for a matter of seconds before the usual poised bravado settles in and Dean’s got his advantage back.

It’s not much of an advantage because right now, being with Bray, makes Dean feel like some schoolboy around his crush, but he tries to ignore it and see Bray like he had before. Another annoying threat that needed to be taken out.

It’s futile, though, because things aren’t the same as they used to be; everything has changed, and drastically, at that.

“I was,” Dean says smoothly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “you been following me?”

“Not so much following as lying in wait,” Bray replies, taking a step closer to Dean, and even in this lighting, Bray’s eyes seem to sparkle with detestation.

“You were gonna ambush me?”

Bray gives a modest shrug of his shoulders.

“What changed your mind?”

“You’re a fascinating creature,” Bray steps in even closer, and had it been anybody else, Dean would have taken a step back, but finds himself taking a step forward, instead. “like a graceful cervid that’s too beautiful to kill but too rare not to keep on a mantle for eternity.”

Dean breathes out, he didn’t hear anything past beautiful. Bray thinks he’s beautiful. That’s certainly a thought.

“I just can’t figure out what to do with you,” Bray continues, and it takes Dean a minute to realize he’s still talking. “you’re a riddle I can’t seem to solve.”

“Some might say the same about you,”

The two of them stop talking, and there’s this taut silence that just hangs around them, and they’re just staring at each other. Ever so often, Dean will see Bray’s gaze flicker down to his lips and if he didn’t know any better he’d think that maybe Bray wanted to kiss him-

Dean’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket and the moment shatters.

Dean reaches into his pocket, cursing under his breath, and pulls out his phone.

When he looks down at his phone, he sees Roman’s calling him, and he also sees Bray take a step back out of the corner of his eye. He’s gotta answer it or Roman will think something’s wrong, and besides, the chance of getting that moment back is as hopeless as Dean’s embarrassing crush on Bray.

Bray’s vanished when Dean looks back up, and Dean mutters out another curse.

Might as well answer it now.

“Hey,” Dean says, putting the phone to his ear, hoping Roman won’t notice how disappointed he sounds right now.

“Hey, man,” Roman says on the other end. “how’d your night go?”

Dean releases a sigh. “Pretty shitty, how about you?”

\- - - - -

“Fuck...”

Bray’s got Dean pinned down to the bed, dragging his mouth down along the side of Dean’s neck, gently biting at his collarbone. Dean’s gripping at Bray’s shoulders so hard he’s sure he’s leaving an imprint of his fingers in the other man’s flesh.

The room is cool, verging on the edge of cold, and Dean can feel the goosebumps spring up along his exposed skin. Even then, he’s not entirely certain that its from the temperature of the room. It might be the way Bray’s tongue feels against his flesh, but Bray’s added warmth is a soothing comfort to make Dean not even care in the slightest, even if the room felt like the inside of an igloo. This moment is happening and it’s all Dean can focus on.

One of Bray’s free hands moves down to grasp at Dean’s hips, pulling him into every unrelenting thrust. Dean digs his heels into Bray’s back, a hiss escaping his lips as his entire form moves with Bray.

Bray’s mouth is still latched onto Dean’s skin, Dean’s fingers are still grasping at Bray’s shoulders, and the moment is still more than perfect.

“Fuck,” Dean groans out when Bray thrusts into him a little harder than before. “I fucking, ugh - I hate you,”

Dean can feel Bray’s lips twitch up into a smile.

“I fucking hate you, oh my fucking God, I fucking hate you,”

The words follow him into consciousness, and when Dean wakes up, he knows that they’re far from the truth.

Yet another dream, and Dean’s nowhere close to getting himself out of this pit.

He gets up from his bed and heads toward the bathroom to take a shower and finish the job that the dream had left him with.

\- - - - -

“Dean, man, are you alright?”

He’s in the passenger’s seat of Roman’s rental a week later, the two of them on their way to another arena for another episode of Raw.

Roman’s voice drags him out of the haze he’d been in, and he’s just now realizing that he’d been staring blankly out the window for the past half hour.

“Huh?” Dean turns to meet Roman’s concerned gaze.

“You’re acting funny,” Roman glances back to the road and then back to him. “what’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,”

Roman ignores Dean’s attempt at dismissing the subject.

“Is it Wyatt?”

“Is _what_ Wyatt?”

“Is he the reason you’re acting so fucking weird?”

_Yes_. “No,”

“Dean,”

“He’s not, okay, I was just - you said not to let Bray into my head and I’m not,”

“Alright,” Roman spreads his fingers out over the steering wheel, a sign of retreat. “if you say so.”

Roman’s gaze goes back to the road, and Dean lets his stare linger on the other man before turning back to the window.

_I think I’m in love with him, Roman, I think I’m in love with the bastard and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it._

\- - - - -

“Bray Wyatt says he has my soul,” Dean chuckles, taking a sip from his water bottle. He’s with Roman again, standing in the backstage area of the arena.

“I heard,” Roman’s leaned up against the wall beside Dean, sparing a grin in his direction. “does he really?”

“Nah,” Dean says. “’don’t have a soul.”

Roman chuckles at this, shoving at Dean’s shoulder playfully.

“No, but hey, man, really, I’m glad you didn’t let him in your head.”

In that moment, Dean pities Roman. He doesn’t have any clue how wrong he is. Bray has beyond gotten into Dean’s head.

“Me too,”

Roman takes out his phone, checks the time, and shoves it back in his pocket. “I wasn’t so sure there on the end, I gotta admit, Dean, I thought you were a goner.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Dean shrugs.

“Well, hey, I gotta get back to the hotel, I’ll text you.” Roman gives Dean a pat on the shoulder and this sincere look that lets Dean know that Roman’s there for him if he needs him.

“Alright, man,” Dean spares him a weak smile. “see ya later.”

Roman flashes him one last earnest glance before retreating towards the arena exit and Dean’s left alone once again.

He half expects Bray to show up behind him, and he’s not surprised to see that he does.

“I can’t say I predicted you to still have connections with Roman Reigns after the whole Shield incident,” Bray says, and Dean turns to see him approaching him from the shadows like last time. “yet you continue to surprise me.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, and if it were anybody else, there probably would’ve been a defensive edge in his tone, but since it’s Bray, Dean finds himself talking to him just as casually as he had been with Roman.

“If you don’t trust Seth Rollins, I would find it hard to trust Roman Reigns, he’s not part of your team anymore.”

“Harper and Rowan aren’t part of your team either, and you still trust them.” Dean points out.

“I do not trust Rowan, he has sided with the enemy.”

“Oh,” Dean says, and even when he turns his attention to something else, he can feel Bray’s stare boring through him. “why did you abandon them, anyway? I thought you cared about them.”

“I didn’t abandon them,” Bray defends. “they do not belong to me anymore, I had to prepare for my new family.”

“Who’s your new family?”

“You are,” Bray says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Dean can’t help but give him a look of disbelief.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Dean meets Bray’s painfully honest gaze head on, and can’t for the life of him force himself to look away. “I cast the others aside for you, Dean, and I would do it again.”

Any words that Dean had prepared leave him almost immediately, and he stares back at Bray, his mouth slightly ajar as he processes this information.

Bray had sacrificed his family just to be with Dean.

Somehow, Dean regains his composure.

“Are you trying to fuck me or murder me?” Dean chuckles out.

“Which one would you prefer?” Bray asks, curious.

Dean’s eyebrows quirk up, the remainders of a smile still lingering on his lips. He takes a step forward, leaving barely an inch of space between him and Bray and in the most enticing voice he can muster says, “Well, I think that one’s kinda obvious.”

\- - - - -

Even though Bray had put him through hell these past few months, Dean couldn’t describe it as anything other than being a _good_ thing.

Long ago, Dean had realized that he had been going about this the wrong way from the start, he should have been embracing Bray’s offers rather than pushing them away. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice now.

He could barely bring himself to fight Bray anymore, his heart wasn’t in it, but he had to, to keep up appearances. Besides, Dean still wasn’t completely ready to tell Roman about how he’d had a super crush on Bray Wyatt over the past few weeks.

If Roman was smart,he’d abandon Dean like Seth had. Dean was beyond fixing now, and Bray was the final push to send every bit of humanity he had left tumbling down. He didn’t want to drag Roman down in the mess he’d created, and he didn’t want Roman to try pull him out of it, because there was no use.

He couldn’t be what they wanted him to be anymore. Somewhere along the road, Dean had just stopped fighting.

And it was because of this he’d let Bray kiss him outside of the arena, and it was because of this he’d agreed to meet Bray back at his hotel room, and it was because of this he was lying in bed with Bray now, the other man’s arm draped around him, making Dean feel the safest he’d ever felt in a long time.

He was finally content with himself.

“I apologize,” Bray says unexpectedly, his breath warm against the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean turns his head to look at him. “For what?”

“Everything,” Bray sighs out, the words so painfully honest. “I made you face demons you weren't ready to face, and in the process let you destroy me completely.”

“We're all attracted to beautiful things, even if they have the potential to destroy us,” Bray continues. “We are blind as we approach our end, and darling, I can't help but be drawn to you like a moth is to a flame.”

“Why are you saying it like it’s my fault?”

“I’m not by any means blaming you for this,” Bray says. “as humans, we ruin everything we touch, it's in our nature.”

"Human," Dean lets out a humorless chuckle. "I think we're two of the most inhuman people in the world."

Dean feels Bray’s hand interlace with his and immediately takes comfort in the gesture.

"You don't have to be alone in this, darling, we go together, like the two final pieces of the puzzle that is world corruption."

"Is that your way of saying you wanna take on the world with me?" Dean feels a smile twitch its way onto his features, and it feels like the first honest smile he’s given in a long time.

"And everything in it,” Bray’s gaze is so vividly sincere, Dean can’t bring himself to look away. “we could conquer everything, everyone."

Dean finds the statement interesting, if not a complete sedative.

\- - - - -

Bray and Dean’s last match together is that Monday; the last chapter to their insalubrious journey.

Dean has to force himself to fight back with Bray.

By the end of the match, he’s exhausted, both mentally and physically, and he’s the one who ends up in the back of the ambulance. Bray had won.

When Dean sees Bray again, it’s late in the night, and Dean’s just been released from the hospital when he finds Bray waiting for him in his hotel room.

Bray’s sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed, and he’s got this look in his eyes that makes Dean a little wary.

The room is dimly lighted, and Bray catches the moonlight that’s streaming through the window in a way that makes him look eerily surreal. His gaze is fixed on Dean, watching every movement he makes. It briefly reminds Dean of one of those nature shows he’d watched before, where the predator eyes his prey before going in for the kill.

It’s almost ironic how similar those situations really are.

“Do you trust me, Dean?” Bray’s voice comes out rough and threatening, and despite where Dean had thought he and Bray were at this point, he can’t help but be intimidated.

“Yeah,”

“You don’t have to lie, angel,” Bray chuckles. “I can feel your uncertainty from here, you think you might have made the wrong decision in coming to me.”

“No, I-”

"You don't trust me," whatever hint of humor that was laced within Bray’s voice moments ago is gone. "you still feel as if my passion is ingenuine."

"I trust you." Dean insists.

Bray doesn’t respond, and a silence settles between the two of them, their eyes locked on each other.

And it takes Dean a moment to realize he’d already broken the tension by blurting out, "I think I might be in love with you,"

It’s something that had been eating away at Dean this entire time, and a feeling of relief washes over him when he gets it out. Only to have the moment crushed by what Bray says next.

"No, you're not,"

"What?"

"You're not in love with me, darling, it's just an illusion."

_"What?"_

"What exactly did you think would happen here tonight, Dean?" Bray stands, approaching Dean with silent, stealthy footsteps. "That we would fall into each others arms, share one more night of passion, and just live happily ever after?"

The words are mocking him, and Dean finds each one like a stab to heart.

“No,” Dean grinds out the word rather defensively, but Bray keeps on.

"Come on, Dean, you never struck me as the foolish type, you can't honestly believe that-" the wheezy laugh that erupts from Bray makes Dean take a step back. "What you think you feel, Dean, is nothing but a mere conception, I _made_ you feel this way."

"You've got this fairy tale in your head,” Bray continues, unaffected by Dean’s retreat. “that you've fallen for me, but you can't figure out why, because it just seems so wrong and the thought of being with me just makes every inch of your skin crawl, but your heart-" Bray’s got Dean backed into the wall now, and he’s close enough to lay a land on Dean’s chest. "you know what's in your heart is no lie, but it is, your heart was almost as easy to get into as your mind, Dean, and you wanna know why?" Bray takes a step closer, if Dean thought that was even possible."Because you invited me into it."

"You welcomed me into your heart, your soul, and your mind with open arms, unaware of what exactly you had done, but some say love is blind, and I think you're a prime example of that."

"What the fuck?" Dean breathes out.

"You've always fascinated me, Dean, that is no lie,” Bray ignores him. “but I could never really understand what it was that drawn me to you, but now, I understand perfectly."

"We are two halves of the same whole, Dean, we are destined by fate to be joined together for eternity. Sadly, eternity doesn't last for you, but me, I am forever, the vessel that I possess is forever, but it's the matter of finding the correct one, and well, I've found it. I've found _you_."

Bray breaks the words off by pressing his lips to Dean’s with a searing kiss, and Dean almost pushes him off, but finds himself enveloped in the kiss completely. Bray’s hands grasp at either side of Dean’s face, not allowing Dean to back off even if he tried, and Bray kisses him until Dean’s head feels light from the lack of oxygen.

He feels as if he’s leaving his body completely.

\- - - - -

When Bray breaks the kiss, he opens his eyes to himself rather than Dean. The same glassy blue eyed he recognizes from years ago, the same refreshing feeling that comes with possessing a new vessel.

“Look at me, pet,” when it’s Dean throaty voice that comes out instead of his own, Bray can’t bring himself to fight the smile that’s threatening to form.

Husky Harris gazes back at him, his eyes distant and confused, until sheer terror settles in, and he jerks back so quickly, he almost falls to the ground.

“Where am I?” Husky glances around the room, alarmed now, as his brain is struggling to put the pieces of reality together. After housing a overwhelmingly powerful and immortal demon for as long as he did, Bray’s surprised Husky isn’t drained completely.

"Texas," Bray says, his voice (or rather Dean’s voice) calm and steady. "I want you to know how much I appreciated our time together, you were very loyal and brave."

"What happened?" Husky’s voice sounds so fragile and pathetic compared to what he once was. Bray’s certainly going to miss him, there’s no doubt about that.

"What's in the past is nothing for you to worry about," Bray steps forward to clutch the other man’s face in his hands, a soothing gesture that’s not working as well as Bray would have liked. "what concerns you is what's in the future.”

“What happens now is you're going to get yourself together,” Bray continues, “return home to your family, and tell them nothing, you never saw me, you never saw anything, you have no idea what happened or why you disappeared. Understood?"

Husky nods, still having his senses to easily surrender when necessary.

"Good,” Bray dismisses him. “go.”

Husky spares one last frightened glance at Bray before walking out the hotel room door that Bray had gestured to. He trusts Husky to not and go denounce him to the world, Husky is loyal, and incredibly so. He knows Husky recognizes his release as a gratitude of his services, and he trusts Husky better than anyone to not betray him.

Bray walks into Dean’s bathroom, and a sensation of gratification falls over him when he sees Dean staring back at him in the mirror.

This is it. The other half to his being that he’d been searching for ever since Abigail was taken from his life. The missing piece to fill the void that she had left behind.

Dean Ambrose.

A name that's as beautiful to the ears as his face is to the eyes.

But, there was no more Dean Ambrose, only the form of something greater that he’d always been striving for.

Bray would be the one to give him that justice and he’d have all of eternity to do it.


End file.
